We'll Meet Again: Love Will Find a Way
by eonsofmemories
Summary: Years have passed in the Brewer residence, and things have drastically changed. Jack turned a single father, and his daughter is raised by a single parent all of a sudden. Just one question - where is Kim? And what has happened to her? Will Jack ever be able to rekindle their family's happiness? Well, you know what they say - we'll meet again. KICK. RATED T.
1. Chapter 1

**Heylooo! What's this I wasn't supposed to start a new story.**

**But I was itching to write this just today - it just jumped at me when I got a little free at work *touchwood better not jinx it lol* and yeah the crazy me started writing. Anyway, here is the first chapter! :) Hope you like.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Remembrance<br>**

_June, 2014_

_I don't know why she left. I just remember that one day it was suddenly just my father and me. And the empty house. She left without saying goodbye. All that was left behind was her familiar smell that lingered in the house even after she left. She left behind the echoes of her laughter that seemed to follow me around wherever I went. She left behind her smile that still lurk in the corners. She left behind her voice that was so full of life. She left behind the sound of her jingling bracelets that always adorned her hands._

_Most of all, she left behind her love. The love that she held in her heart for me and my father._

_When I wake up each day, the stillness of the house hurts me like an open wound that never healed. It's a scar that hurts, every single day. My father is not the same anymore. He pretends to put on a smile for my sake, a cheerful voice that fails to disguise the pain he feels every day and the pretense of not missing her. He plants a rose in the garden, every month, in her memory. He says their presence is comforting, but I know he plants them because she used to love them. And because he still loves her and misses her._

_Somehow, we silently understand each other. We know each other well enough not to ever mention her even though every wall holds her picture: memories that once were. We just glance at her smiling face, frozen in time and avert our eyes. Our eyes scream about the hollow she left in our lives. And yet, we never complain to each other. _

_Yes, I miss my mother. _

_I am now fourteen years old. So many years have passed since she left without a word. And yet, I still remember being six years old, standing near the granite stairs leading up to my room and being hugged by my father the day she disappeared._

_I remember his constant whisperings of "It will be alright, my love," as he held me in his arms: a child clutching to her teddy bear, who had no inkling of the fact that her mother had disappeared from her life._

_By the way, that's what my name means: love. Amy.  
><em>

_As the years went on, my father became my mother as well. He cared for me, he cooked for me, and he dressed me up for school every single day. He was never the same after that day, and yet, he never left my side. He became my best friend. _

_He searched for my mother for years. I remember being hugged so tight by Auntie Sloane each night, as we heard his shouts of frustration and rage downstairs. Sometimes it scared me. But he was there beside me every night, tucking me in and whispering to me that it would be alright. Even though he was breaking apart, he never let me feel his pain._

_I wonder sometimes about the reasons that would have made her leave. Something leads me to believe that she was forced to leave. For I know how much she loved me and my father. Her life revolved around us. Even now, I never doubt her love. It was pure, as a mother's love should be. I don't think she is dead. People say she is never coming back. But I don't believe them. I know in my heart that she is alive and she still looks out for us. _

_She will come back one day, I know. Because I will find her._

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><p>"Amy!" I hear my father's shout downstairs.<p>

I make a face and slam my diary shut. My father always shouts at precisely the most wrong times. I sigh and shove my diary inside the drawer of my wooden desk. I stretch my arms and tie my long dark hair into a ponytail. A quick glance at my Paris wall clock tells me it is 8 o'clock in the morning. I stifle a yawn and make my way towards the stairs.

"AMY!" His shout gets louder and I roll my eyes. I don't reply and he continues, "Are you coming down or should I come up?"

The smell of fried eggs and coffee drifts through the open kitchen window and I sniff the air. I skip down the last few stairs and enter the kitchen in my blue pyjamas.

My father stands with his back to me in our red and white kitchen, his hands busy in putting the fried eggs on to a plate. He is wearing his usual grey t-shirt and pyjamas. His hair is slightly dishevelled just like every morning.

He shakes his head and shouts again, oblivious to my presence, "AMY! Last warning."

"Papa!" I snigger, "I'm right behind you."

He turns back at me and rolls his eyes. He points the frying pan towards the high red chairs around the little black granite island in our kitchen that looks over the garden. "Care to have a seat, _ma'am_?"

I stride towards the chair facing the island like a queen and say, "The queen would like to have pancakes today. Tired of the same old pancakes." I make a face at him.

He puts down the plate in front of me while I munch on a piece of toast, my eyes glancing at the roses blooming in the garden. "Eat it if you want, else go to school with an empty stomach. Even I have to go for work."

I grin and play with the eggs on my plate while he finishes up cooking his eggs. "You got a new case, papa?"

He nods and settles down opposite me with his own plate. He never faces the garden.

He reaches for his newspaper and buries his head into it.

I gobble down my food and lower his newspaper. "Hellooo? You are sitting in front of me but not talking to me."

He raises one eyebrow at me and says, "Amy, lemme read my newspaper."

"What's in the read, I'll read you the main headlines in the car. Anyways, I'm sure half of the cases are yours."

He smirks and says, "Yeah, right."

"Hey, after all you're _the _ACP Jack Brewer!"

He grows quiet and lowers his head towards the newspaper again, his eyes becoming distant once more. I hurt him again. Unknowingly, I open old wounds every day, when I speak like my mother.

It is weird how I spent a greater part of my life with my father and yet, I developed the habits, the thoughts and even the way I speak, from my mother. Unknowingly and unintentionally, I became like her.

I touch the stubble on his cheeks and speak in an apologetic voice, "I am sorry."

He sighs and smiles up at me, his eyes full of pain. "Why are you saying sorry?"

I lower my head and play with the edges of the toast on my plate.

He pats my cheek then, his eyes lighting up a little once more and says, "Silly girl. Don't say sorry again." Then he puts on his serious voice that my friends are scared of and says, "Get that or..."

"Got it, got it." I complete his sentence for him and jump down from my chair to clear away the empty plates.

He folds his newspaper and says in a casual voice, "Meet you down in half an hour. If you're late, I'm leaving you behind. Then go to school on your own."

I scoff at him and say, "Amy Jack Brewer is never late, Papa."

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><p>As I wait for my father at the bottom of the stairs, my eyes fall upon the post lying on the carpet. I hum a tune and walk towards it to pick up the only letter that came through.<p>

I see my father's name inscribed on the front of the envelope and sneak a glance at the stairs. He still isn't here. Out of curiosity, I tear open the envelope and pull out the contents.

My heart stops as I glance at the photo concealed within the envelope.

It is the photo of my mother: Kimberly Jack Brewer.

And along with the photo, there is a note with a phone number written on it in black ink.

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><p><strong>Eh...how was it? Should I continue? Feel free to say no!<strong>

**:) **


	2. Chapter 2: The Phone Call

**Heylooo!**

**Thank you soo much for encouraging me into writing the next chapter of this story **

**Two more introductions in this one... hope you like the new characters (one of which will become one of the main characters in this story).**

**Read onn**

**P.S - This too is from AMY's POV, but from the next one JACK will find his voice too**

**P.P.S - This is not going to be a sad story :)**

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><p>"Hey! How'd the All-American Radio Station turn off?" My father smirks as he drives, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.<p>

I roll my eyes at him and gaze out of the window. I haven't told him about the letter. I don't want to plant false hopes in him and have his heart broken all over again. As much as he pretends to be strong, I know, he isn't really. He is broken inside.

I absently twirl a loose strand of my hair as my father prods me again, "What's wrong?"

I glance at his clean shaven face bearing a half-smile, his eyes full of concern and I reply, "Oh nothing. I just have a test today. So I was kind of reviewing in my mind."

"Reviewing in your mind?" He raises an eyebrow at me.

"You doubt every little thing."

"Can't help it. Police officer after all." He grins and moves his eyes back on the road.

I play with a stray thread sticking out of my navy blue school skirt and say casually, "Papa... I will come home with Chrissie. You don't bother to pick me up."

"Christopher _brother_." He looks at me sternly.

Chrissie, i.e. Christopher Carlson is Sloane aunty and Brody uncle's son. He is like an elder brother, but more than that, he is my best friend. He is four years older to me and so my father insists on me calling him _brother_. But of course, I am stubborn and don't listen to him. And Chrissie doesn't mind. He calls me by weird names anyway.

"Whatever." I roll my eyes as the car pulls to a stop outside my school.

I stare at the grey square building standing beyond the tall black gates of my school and sigh. Another day at school begins. How can I study when I have that mysterious letter in my bag?

I clutch my navy blue bag and jump out of the car.

"Oh, hello?" He leans towards my car door. "Something is wrong with you."

"Here we go again." I roll my eyes.

"If I see you around those boys again..." My father glares at me.

"Oh come on, Papa. It's nothing like that. And anyways, they're so scared of you that they won't even come 5 feet near me."

"Good. You forgot something." He looks at me as if I missed something very obvious.

I remember then and bend down to peck my father's cheek. I smile and say, "Have a nice day, Papa."

He smiles and says, "You too. I'll send Christopher over. No funny business ok?"

I nod and wave at him as he pulls out of the school lane.

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><p>As soon as the final school bell rings I run down the stairs and out of the school gate. My eyes scan the scores of cars parked outside the school gate for the familiar shiny black car that belongs to Chrissie.<p>

I see him then, dressed in a crisp white shirt and jeans, his dark hair neatly brushed back. He leans against his car, parked just to the left of the gate, his arms wide open.

"Chrissie!" I grin and run into his open arms.

He lifts me into the air and then gently puts me down. "What's up Mousie?"

"I need to talk to you. Where's Annie?"

"As if you care? If I remember correctly, she studies in your school."

"Two grades under me." I grin at him, my arms crossed.

"Stop making excuses. There she is." He points to the school gate.

I turn back and watch the little bespectacled girl dressed in our white and navy school uniform walking out of the school gate. Chrissie's little sister, Anna. Her dark curls are held back loosely by a navy hair band which she adjusts as soon as she comes out of the gate. Her eyes scan the crowd for her elder brother.

Chrissie waves and I see her lips curve into a little smile.

She runs towards us and Chrissie shoots her into the air. She grins at me as Chrissie puts her down and she says, "Hello Amy sis."

"Hi Specs." I pull her into a hug. "How was school?"

"Anna!" She stamps her foot and then adds with a grin, "It was great!"

Then without another word, she jumps into the car and rummages in her school bag for a book.

I turn to Chrissie and say, "Chrissie, I need to talk to you."

He looks at my solemn face and his expression turns serious, "What's wrong?"

I glance sideways at Annie inside the car, busy reading a book. I bite my lips and pull out the white envelope from my bag. "I got this in the mail today."

He reads my father's name on the cover and says, "Mousie, this has Uncle Jack's name written all over it."

"I know... I usually don't open his letters but...there was something weird about it."

He furrows his brows and pulls out the contents of the letter. A loud gasp escapes him as his eyes fall upon my mother's photo and the note along with it.

I bite my lips and look at him expectantly, "What do you think?"

"Amy..."

The seriousness of the situation dawns on me as he utters my name. He doesn't call me by my real name unless he is worried or concerned. I bite my nails and wait for his response, glancing at Annie in the car from the corner of my eye, every two minutes.

"What do you think?" I ask, hesitatingly.

He quickly pushes the contents back into the envelope and sighs. "Did you tell Uncle?"

I take the envelope back from him and lower my gaze. "Nope. I don't think I should tell him."

"And why not?"

I look up into his questioning eyes and bite my lips for the umpteenth time. "I don't want him to be heart-broken." I lower my eyes. "Again."

"Amy...this is serious. At least talk to Mom about this."

"No," I shake my head, "I want to call this number first. You gonna help?"

"Ames..." He sighs and leans against his car. "This can be dangerous."

"It's only a phone call, Chrissie. And you're by my side." I plead. "Let's do it with your cell?"

"You're gonna get it yourself, and drag me along in the process. If Uncle finds out, then I'm dead meat!"

"Papa trusts you, Chrissie."

"Fine. I love you too much dearie." He pats my cheek and pulls out his mobile from his pocket. "You owe me one."

I grin at the sight of the phone and put my arms around him. "Thank you, Chrissie! You're the best!"

He pokes his head through the car window and speaks to Annie, "Annie, give me two minutes. I need to make a call."

Annie nods her head, her head buried in her book. I breathe out a sigh of relief and reach for Chrissie's phone. My hands tremble as I touch the numbers on the glass screen. I forget about the hustle and bustle around me as the parents shepherd their exhausted children into the cars, and my heart starts to beat faster and faster. A thousand questions pop into my mind as I hold the phone to my ear. Will it be my mother's voice on the other end? Or will it be someone else? Will that person really know my mother?

I hold my breath as the phone rings and a kind female voice comes through, "Hello?"

It isn't my mother's voice.

"Uh...ummm." I stutter, unable to find words to speak.

Chrissie slaps his forehead and ushers me to speak. It's not so easy, I want to tell him. How do you ask someone whether your mother was alive?

"Hello?" The voice comes through again.

"Uh...is this..." I take a deep breath and continue, "Does Kimberly Jack Brewer live here?"

A pause from the other end. I can almost hear my heart thudding against my chest. _Speak_, I urge her silently, _just say anything_.

"Maybe..." She hesitates, "I don't know." She speaks with a slight British accent.

"What do you mean you don't know? Didn't you send her photo with your phone number on it?" I hold my breath and wait for her reply.

"Yes."

I breathe out and ask, "So, you know her?"

"Who are you?"

I sigh and look up at Chrissie's concerned face, his brows furrowed. I reply then, "I am Amy," After a small pause, I add, "her daughter."

I hear a sigh from the other end. "I thought you sounded like a child. Marissa..." Another pause follows and she adds, "Your mother, lives with me."

I pause, puzzled at her words. My mother lives with this unknown person? And who is Marissa? I feel frustrated at the questions that arise in my mind.

When I voice my questions she replies, "I think you need to come here, love."

"How can I go there? How do I even know you are talking about my mother? How do I believe you? You are just a stranger!" I cry out.

Chrissie squeezes my shoulder and extends his hand for the phone. I shake my head and continue in a firm voice, "Since when do you know her?"

"Eight years," comes the reply.

A gasp escapes me and my heartbeat quickens even further. "Eight years?"

"Yes."

More questions float to the surface and I blurt them out, "But then, why are you contacting us after so many years? Why not then? And why isn't she talking to us? Who are you anyway?"

Another pause. And this time, it is a longer one.

Her reply comes then, "So many questions and yet, I cannot answer them on the phone. Do you ... have a father?"

"Of course I do."

"Do you want to come visit your mother?"

I gasp. It all seems too good to be true. It can't be this simple can it? My father has been searching for her for years, but the search has always been fruitless.

"Where do you live?" I whisper to her.

Chrissie stares at me when I hang up the phone. A few knocks on the window behind me snaps me back into reality. Annie's head pokes out of the car window and she asks irritably, "Chris, when are we going? I am tired."

Chrissie ignores her, looks at me and asks in a tender voice, "Ames, what happened?"

I stare at the dark screen of his mobile in my hands and repeatedly brush my fingers over it, as if it were a magic phone and would fade away if I touched it repeatedly. Could it really be true? Will I really be able to meet my mother? Was she my mother? The lady mentioned another name: Marissa. Who is Marissa? What if I go there and I realise that it wasn't my mother after all. Am I building up false hopes? But then... the picture. It was a picture of my mother, I know.

"Amy?" Chrissie shakes me and I look up into his eyes.

His phone rings again and he mutters an "I am dead," before answering the call. "Yeah, Uncle?"

My father. What if I take him there and it turns out that she wasn't my mother? I bury my head in my hands and lean against the car. I have to make a decision. I cannot, just cannot break my father's heart again. I know he hasn't given up his search yet, but I know that he has somehow accepted her absence in our lives. If his heart is broken again, I don't think it would ever heal.

Chrissie shakes me again and speaks urgently, "Look Mousie, get in the car before your dad makes a living pig-fry outta me. We'll talk in the car."

I sigh and blurt out my conversation to Chrissie. He listens with his arm on my shoulder until I finish repeating the conversation.

In the end, he asks, "Ames, where does she live?"

"Boston."

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><p>"You won't be able to do this Mousie." Chrissie laughs from the other end of the phone.<p>

"What kind of a friend are you? You should be encouraging me not putting me off!"

I slam the baking tin on the kitchen counter and rummage in the cupboards for the sugar jar. I am standing in the kitchen, dressed in my favourite mauve floral top and white tights, trying to bake a cake for my father. Chrissie always teases me, even though he loves my cakes.

He sniggers again and says, "Uncle Jack will never agree. You can butter him up as much as you want."

I place a pan of water on the electric hob and turn up the heat. "You're always gonna be negative. Papa loves my cooking!"

"Ya mean burnt food that is." He sniggers again.

"Oh why you! - Look Chrissie I'll tell Papa on you!"

"Do you plan on killing me? Okay, hold up. I'm coming."

"Why? You don't think I can do it?"  
>"No no, you're enough on your own. I was just coming to give you company."<p>

"Of course of course. Stop worrying about me, Chrissie. Go on and help out Auntie Sloane."

"Oops. Unfortunately, cannot do that." His voice becomes a little faint, "Annie, don't touch my laptop! Mom!"

I giggle and say, "What a mamma's boy. Go get a hold of your laptop, and leave me be."

"Ames, you're gonna get it. Annie! Ok, I'm gonna go now... Anna Carlson, last warning!"

He hangs up the phone and I frown at the baking tray in front of me. My eyes move towards the fridge where I see my mother's smiling face pulling the cheeks of a four-year me. I sigh and break some eggs into the mixing bowl.

Today, I am have no reason to remember her with a heavy heart. Today, I have hope.

**-0-0-0-**

I am lighting a few candles on the dining table as I hear the front creak open.

"Papa?" I call out.

"Amy?"

"Papa, I'm over here. In the dining room."

I straighten my t-shirt and wait for his entry into the dining room.

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><p><strong>Precap: Amy tries to persuade Jack to take her to Boston.<strong>

**And a little bit of old memories ;)**

**Don't forget to leave your comments as they mean a lot to a reader (*hands folded in pleading* no silent reading please)**


	3. Chapter 3: Memories of the Night

**Heylooo :) **

**It's Mondayyy! *tears of joy***

**And I am backk!**

** a big huggeee thank you to all who commented! Biig hugs to all of you!**

**This one is a bit of a filler - kinda bittersweet! Hope you'll like it :) **

**I also wanted to clear one thing - Amy has blonde hair, sorry for the typo last chapter; also, amy's reason for not telling her father is because she doesn't want him getting hurt after hoping for finding Kim and then not finding her. So, she obviously doesn't think about anything else except that her father shouldn't get hurt even if she does.**

**And about what Kim is doing in Boston, well...you have to wait for that one**

**Ok, done blabbering lol**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Memories of the Night<strong>

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><p><strong>JACK POV<br>**

I freeze as soon as I enter the dining room. For a moment, it almost feels as if Kim is back. The room is lit by the faint glow of the two thick candles that are set up at the centre of the dining table. Surrounding it are two plates, on opposite ends of the table, and a few covered bowls. My eyes move then to my fourteen year old daughter standing just behind the table, her face bearing the purest of her smiles.

Dressed in that mauve floral top, her long hair falling past her shoulders, she looks so much like Kim that I choke on my words. Memories come flooding into my mind before I can block them out.

_**New York, 2003  
><strong>_

_I am typing the last few lines of a report when the lights go out. The thunder rumbles outside and a faint monsoon breeze drifts in through the window that has been left slightly ajar._

_"Great!" I curse under my breath and close the lid of my laptop. _

_The house is in complete darkness and I can hear Kim softly humming to herself in the kitchen, just beyond the dining room. _

_"Kim?" I shout into the darkness. _

_"What?" As soon as her voice reaches me, I hear the soft pattering of rain against the glass window pane. Great, just great._

_"Why didn't the generator go on?"_

_"How would I know?" Comes her irritated reply. "Jack?"_

_"What?" I shout again._

_"Go to Amy please. She must be scared."_

_"I can't see anything!"_

_"Well, you have a phone!"_

_"So?"_

_"ACP Jack Brewer, use your brains! God knows why you leave them in the ETF headquarters."_

_"No! I don't."_

_"Stop arguing and please go upstairs."_

_The shouting ends._

_I sigh and grope on the table for my mobile phone. _

_As I light the screen of my phone, I spot a faint light escaping through the slightly ajar door to the dining room. I smile to myself and make my way into the next room._

_The room glows in the soft glow of the candle set on the dining table that illuminates the two white glass plates set on either side. I see her standing next to the table, dressed in a white cotton shirt, a candle alight in her hands. Her gaze is focused on the two unlit candles on the table, her blonde curtain of hair lies dangerously close to the burning flame. A gust of wind blows into the room and the flames flicker wildly, throwing dancing shadows all over the walls. _

_"ACP Jack Brewer, you're not here to just stand and gawk at me."_

_I smile, my eyes transfixed on her. "Can't help it, I just can't take my eyes off of someone."_

_Her lips twitch as she refuses to look at me. "Stop flirting with me and please go upstairs."_

_She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and thrusts a candle in my hands. _

_As she tries to turn, I grab her wrist and the soft chiming of the silver bracelets adorning her wrist creates a bewitching melody in the silence of the room. I move closer to her and bring the flame of the candle closer to her face. Her iridescent eyes look into mine as the candle flickers silently in the dark. I slip my hand around her waist and pull her closer towards me. "Kimberly Jack Brewer. How about I don't let you go?"_

_Her lips curve into a teasing smile and she replies, "I thought you were mad because the lights went out."_

_"Hmmm, maybe it was a good thing." I brush my lips against hers._

_She closes her eyes and I plant kisses over her closed eyelids. The thunder rumbles outside and the rain lashes against the window panes. There is a strange silence that follows; the silence mixed with the rain and the thunder and the soft thudding of her heart against mine is like a melody for my soul that soothes me from within. _

_"Mommy?" A small voice comes from the dark._

_"Amy." She whispers and pulls away from me._

_I watch the woman in white disappear into the darkness and then emerge from it, carrying a little bundle of pink in her arms. My three-year old lifts her head from her mother's secure shoulders and her frightened eyes gaze into mine. _

_The thunder rumbles again and she buries her face in her mother's neck, her little arms wrapped tightly around her._

_Kim rubs her back and says, "It's only the thunder uncle, baby. He has come to say hello to you."_

_Amy lifts her head again and Kim brushes back the blonde locks of hair from her forehead._

_I move closer to them and say, "Yes. You weren't sleeping, right. So the thunder uncle thought, 'why don't we tell our dear Amy a story'."_

_Amy's eyes light up instantly and she asks me excitedly, "Really Papa?"_

_"Yes! And you are scared of him?"_

_"No no," Kim chimes in, "Our Amy is a brave girl, right? And you like stories! Isn't that right?"_

_She nods her little head and I pull her into my arms. "Papa, tell me a story too!"_

_"Hmmm ok. But just one, and then you sleep. Promise?"_

_"Promise!" She wraps her tiny arms around me and rests her head on my shoulder. I slip my other arm around my wife and say, "Get a candle. It's story time."_

_We settle down on the living room carpet, just near the open doors to the patio. I lean back against the pile of cushions Kim set up along the wall. Amyis sprawled across my chest, one of her arms still locked around my neck. Kim leans against me, her one hand slipped into mine and the other holding Amy's tiny fist._

_I take a deep breath and start narrating a story._

**-0-0-0-**

"Papa?" I feel Amy tugging at my shirt and I start. "Papa? Are you ok?"

I look into her panicked eyes and sigh. I hate doing this to her and yet, I cannot help but slip into the past.

I try to erase her memories for the minute and grin at my daughter. "What do you want?"

"What?" Her face relaxes and she laughs.

"Well, you have cooked, you have set up the table and the dishes. Amy Jack Brewer _never_ sets the table. What do you want, love?"

She bites her lips, a faint smile playing on her lips and asks, "Papa. If I really really want something, will you give it to me?"

"Please don't say you have a boyfriend."

She hits me playfully and continues, "You and your constant fear. No it's not that."

"Then?"

She hesitates again. "Can we go on a holiday?"

"What?"

"Please?"

"Whoa, hold on. What's happening?"

"I just... Papa, summer holidays start next week. And I really want to spend some time with you. Please?"

I sigh. How can I ever deny her something?

I smile then and say, "Ok. Where to?"

"Boston."

* * *

><p><strong>AMY POV<br>**

The thunder rumbles and I rest my chin on my crossed arms on the window sill, looking up at the amber clouds glowing against the dark sky. The cool monsoon breeze carries in the soft drizzle of rain and the faint smell of wet earth. I close my eyes and take a deep breath of the air heavy with the fragrance of rain. Our suitcases are packed and ready just at the bottom of the stairs. The thought of the journey tomorrow causes my heart to leap like the little frogs that I spot in the garden below. I swivel my head in the direction of my bedside table where my mother's beautiful face, illuminated by the golden bedside lamp, smiles back at me.

I hear my door creak and I turn around to see my father standing at the door, dressed in a grey t-shirt and white pyjamas.

It's 12 o' clock in the night and as usual, we both cannot sleep. I smile up at him and he walks towards me. Lightning strikes outside and the entire room is flooded with a sudden flash of light.

He slips his arm around me and asks, "The same old story?"

I smile and reply, "The same old story. Memories?"

He nods and pulls me closer to himself. "I don't know why I feel her around me even more than usual and yet...she isn't here."

It's one of those nights when my father misses her so much that he cannot stay alone. "Cider?" I ask.

He smiles and says, "I think you grew up too soon, Amy."

I don't answer the question. Instead, I wink at him and say, "I'll be back soon."

As I reach the door he calls out, "Ames?"

"Yes?"

Lightning strikes again and I see a flash of pain in his eyes. "I'll come with you."

**-0-0-0-**

I stir sugar in his cup of steaming cider and push it towards him. "Here ya go. Amy special apple cider."

He wraps his arm around me and directs me towards the stairs. "Okay, now tell me. Why Boston?"

I was expecting the question and so, I speak up instantly, "Umm oh you know, my friend in school, Katie, she went last month. She said it's really pretty!"

He looks at me suspiciously as we walk up the stairs, so I add, "As usual you're probably doubting me."

"No of course not. I was just asking."

"You did tell everyone, didn't you?"

"Hmm, they'll reach the airport." He smiles at me.

"Good! It'll be loads of fun, won't it?"

He ruffles my hair and says, "Ya, ya little bambi. Now go to bed."

"Hey, drink your cider at least." I jump on to my bed and pat the space beside me.

His eyes briefly fall upon mother's photo by my side and a flash of pain washes over his eyes. I squeeze his hand and he settles down beside me, his arm wrapped around my shoulder.

"Papa?" I look up briefly into his eyes.

"What?"

"Everything will be alright. She's somewhere out there, and she'll be found soon." I smile.

He bleakly smiles back and asks, "How do you know?"

I grin and say, "I just do. Trust me."

He looks at me suspiciously for a while and then laughs. "I trust you."

"Good." I lie down on his chest while he sips the cup of cider, his gaze fixed on the transparent curtain of rain falling outside.

I wish she were here, with her arm around the both of us like it once used to be.

**-0-0-0-**

**_New York 2004_**

_"For real, Mommy?" My eyes are wide open with shock as my mother tells me the story of a big lion trapped in a big cave._

_"Yes! And then you know what happened?" She continues to narrate the story, her face acting out every emotion. I cuddle underneath the blanket with my teddy bear, my fingers clutching her red scarf._

_"Grrr." My father's deep voice enters the room. I squeal and I hide under the blanket._

_I feel his strong arms holding me through the blanket, as he growls like a lion by my side._

_My mother laughs and I giggle along, carefully peeping over the blanket now and then._

_"And then that lion came dangerously close to Amy." My mother growls and slips her arms around us._

_I shriek with laughter in the darkness of the blanket as they both tickle me from both sides._

_She pulls down the blanket from my face and gasps in surprise, "Hey, where'd that lion go?"_

_I look around me and search for my father; but he is nowhere to be seen. I even look under the blanket, but there is no one there. I look up at my mother and ask, "Mommy, did the lion disappear?"_

_She pretends to think and says, "Hmmm. Let's see."_

_Suddenly, my father rises from under the bed with a growl and we both jump. "The lion is back!" He growls and tickles my stomach._

_I squeal with laughter as he wraps his arms around me and says, "Lion caught Amy! Grrr!"_

As I drift off to sleep in my father's arms, I smile remembering that day when I had been merely four-years old and I had slept peacefully, surrounded by the warmth of my parents' bodies. I hope and wish that in two weeks, when we return, she would be with us. Again. Completing our family.

* * *

><p><strong>Precap: ETF (Emergency Task Force - Jack's police team) team in Boston and Amy finally gets to meet her mother.<strong>

**But there is something different about her...**

* * *

><p><strong>Don't forget to leave your comments! And get ready to travel to Boston!<strong>


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